Читать книгу The By Request Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 75

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ETHAN STRODE DOWN the street, an unfamiliar warmth heating his chest. It was as if this bubble of time theory had freed him to...to what? To feel? A soupçon of worry trickled through the fuzzy feel-good haze. Feelings netted nothing but pain and loss.

Chill.

Once they got on that plane in less than twenty-four hours everything would snap back to normal. Work would become paramount and all these strange feelings would dissipate.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘I’m good.’

Without thought he took her hand in his and they made their way towards the ticket office. Picked up their tickets and joined the press of people in the gondola. When was the last time he had held someone’s hand? Not since childhood, when he’d teetered along holding Tanya’s hand.

The concept was strange, and for a moment he stared down at their clasped hands before releasing Ruby’s hand under the pretence of losing his balance. The motion was abrupt, and it left him with a strange sense of bereavement as he fixed his eyes on the view as they ascended the steep elevation.

Ruby too was silent, until they disembarked at very top, when she halted, her lips parted in a gasp that denoted sheer wonder. Ethan stared too. The incredible vista was one that emptied the lungs and constricted the throat. Panoramic didn’t cover it.

They walked slowly across the terrace and Ruby hesitated as she approached the rail.

‘You okay?’ he asked. ‘The altitude could be making you dizzy.’

‘I do feel a little light-headed, but I think that’s because I am awestruck.’

‘Ditto.’

The snow-covered expanse stretched and stretched; the sky surrounded them in a cerulean blue cloak.

Ruby gestured towards the now far-distant town that looked as if it might be made from building bricks. ‘Wow! Being up here, encompassed by Nature’s might—it puts things into perspective. We are here for such a minuscule slice of time compared to this universality. It makes me feel insignificant.’

‘You could never be insignificant.’

Not this woman, with her determination, courage and her capacity to give.

She tugged her hat further down her head and he stepped closer to her to share his body warmth; the icy temperature permeated their thick padded layers.

‘That’s kind, Ethan, but it’s not true. One day I hope I will be significant—help turn someone’s life around. But until then...’

‘No.’ The idea that she believed herself insignificant did not sit well with him. ‘You have already touched so many people’s lives. Look at what you did for your brother and sisters.’

She shook her head. ‘I did my best, but you know the saying—the road to hell is paved with good intentions. If I’d been stronger I wouldn’t have shielded my parents for so long. I believed what they said—believed they would turn their lives around for us. So I lied, I pretended, but I was a fool. There were times when there wasn’t enough food, when we slept in squalor—parties when things could have gone so horribly wrong. If I’d spoken up Tom, Edie and Philippa would have had a better start in life. I let them down.’

‘No!’ The syllable was torn from him. ‘You didn’t let anyone down. You gave Tom and Edie and Philippa the right start in life, you kept them safe and you gave them love. I promise you, hand on heart, that you gave each one of them something incredibly precious. Something every baby and every child deserves. Your parents let you all down. The system let you down. You didn’t let anyone down. This I know.’

‘Thank you.’ The words were polite, but she turned away as she spoke them to survey the vast expanse and he knew she had dismissed his words as so much bunkum.

‘Why don’t you ask them?’

That caught her attention and she twisted to face him, her breath white in the crisp cold air.

‘I’m sure you would be able to trace them.’

‘I won’t do that.’ Her chin tilted in a stubborn determination that spoke of a decision made.

‘Why not? I understand the decision you made back then. But now... Now surely it would be good for you all to reconnect?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to rock their boat. You should understand that. They are young adults now, and they have their own lives to lead. The last thing I want to do is complicate those lives. That’s partly why I changed my name years ago—a clean break, a fresh start.’

‘It sounds like there was a deep bond between you. I think they would want to hear from you.’

A sigh puffed from her lips and stricken eyes met his. ‘They have each other and their adoptive parents. They don’t need me.’

Ethan frowned, hearing the stubborn lilt to her voice. ‘It’s not about need, Ruby. Maybe they’d like to hear from you. Maybe they want to know what happened to you.’

He knew that if he could turn back time and somehow spend even five more minutes with Tanya he would move heaven and earth to do so.

His body tensed as Ruby turned again, rested her arms on the railing and stared out into the cold vastness of unforgiving beauty.

‘It’s a bit more complicated than that.’

‘How?’

‘What if I try and contact them and they say thanks, but no thanks? I’ve already lost them once and...’ She gestured over the terrace rail. ‘It was like plummeting into that chasm. I’m out of the pit now and I’ve got my life together. I can’t face the prospect of falling back in.’

Her voice was small and lost and compassion touched him. ‘It’s okay to be scared. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take the risk.’

‘That’s easy for you to say. You’re never scared, and risk is your middle name. Given half a chance you’d leap off here and ski down the mountain.’

‘That’s different. That’s about physical fear—it helps create a buzz; it’s a good feeling. The fear of contact with your brother and sisters not working out is an emotional one, and it takes far more courage to overcome that then it does to climb a mountain.’

‘But you don’t have any emotional fears either.’

That was because he didn’t let himself feel any emotion that he couldn’t control. ‘This isn’t about me. This is about you. And I believe you should do this. Otherwise you’re letting your fear conquer something that could make an enormous difference to your life and theirs.’

Her eyes shot anger at him—a dark blue laser. ‘It’s not your decision to make. All due respect, Ethan, but you don’t know how this feels.’

‘No, I don’t. But...’

His turn now to look away, to absorb the vast chill of white that would remain there long after he and Ruby had returned to normality.

‘But what?’

The exasperation had left her tone and she shifted closer to him, placed a hand on his forearm. Her touch brought a soothing heat and somehow gave him the incentive to step into the chasm. To help Ruby make the decision he felt to be right.

‘But I do know what it feels like to lose a sibling. I had a sister.’ His voice cracked—the word was rusty with disuse. ‘An older sister. Tanya. She died, and I would do pretty much anything to have the chance to see her again. So I am telling you, Ruby. Contact them. You have the chance of a future that has them in it. Take that chance.’

Her body stilled next to him and then she let out an exhalation of shock as her grip tightened on his arm. ‘I am so sorry. I don’t know what to say or do, but I am so very sorry.’

She closed the gap between them completely, so that her body pressed against his, and he took comfort from her closeness. For a long moment they stared out at the view, and then he heard her intake of breath.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked.

Did he? Disbelief rippled in his gut at the fact he was even considering the hitherto impossible. But he was. Because he knew that once they left the Alps there would be no more of this. It was too emotional; too many layers were being unravelled and he couldn’t risk his emotions escalating out of control.

But here and now the temptation to share his memories of Tanya nigh overwhelmed him, and images of his beautiful gentle sister streamed in his mind. He realised that he wanted Ruby to ‘know’ Tanya—to ‘see’ the sister he missed so much. Ruby had told him that talking about Tom, Edie and Philippa had reminded her of the good memories. Maybe Tanya deserved that—to be remembered.

His voice caught as he nodded his head. ‘I think I do. But not here. Let’s go back to the chalet.’

* * *

As they entered the chalet Ruby fought down the urge to throw herself onto his chest, wrap her arms around him and just hold him. Though...why not? For the next few hours at least she could be herself, could show feelings and emotions, and right now the desire to offer comfort overrode all else. But she knew that this was unmapped territory for both of them.

He shrugged his jacket off and hung it on a peg, watched her almost warily as she approached. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek, inhaled his woodsy scent, felt the solid bulk of his body against hers. She stepped back and took his hands in hers. The smile he gave was a little twisted, but his grasp tightened around hers as she tugged him towards the sofa.

‘I’ll light the fire,’ he said.

Sensing that it would be easier for him to talk whilst in action, she nodded. ‘That would be great. You want coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’

He busied herself with the fire, loaded the logs, and Ruby curled up on the purple cushions, her whole being attuned to him.

‘Tanya was three years older than me. Mum was always out—she worked so many jobs to make ends meet—and that made Tanya and I extra close. Tanya was...’

His deep tone faltered and he paused, scraped a match against the side of the box and lit the wood. Sat back on his haunches and gazed at the flicker of red and orange.

‘She was so very gentle, so kind.’ Wonder touched his voice. ‘It was as if she was something rare and beautiful and fragile on that estate. She had chestnut hair, long and thick, and brown eyes, and the warmest smile in the world—the kind that made you feel like you could do anything.’

The fire whoomphed and caught, illuminated the planes of his features, touched with sadness now. Ruby slipped off the sofa, and as if aware of her movements he shifted, so that they both ended up on the floor with the sofa at their backs. Without speaking she placed a hand on his thigh, tucked her body next to his.

‘She wanted to make something of her life. Her dream was to write, to travel, to see the wonders of the world. Mum encouraged her, and Tanya flourished—she loved books, absorbed information like a sponge. She’d tell me about all the countries out there and we’d hatch dreams of travel.’

‘She sounds wonderful—and it sounds like you loved each other very much.’

No wonder Ethan had rejected love—he’d had the most important person in his world snatched by death. Yet the darkness of his expression told her that it was even worse than that.

‘We did. It was Tanya who kept me on the straight and narrow for a long time. But as I got older it became harder for her.’

‘What about your mum?’

‘Mum was... Mum and I... It was difficult. I am the spitting image of my father. She hadn’t actually wanted a second child with him and she never really engaged with me.’

Ruby felt her nails score her palm—it sounded as though Ethan felt he’d deserved the indifference she read from his words. ‘That wasn’t your fault.’

A shrug greeted this and she held her peace.

‘No, but my behaviour was my own choice. The estate was my reality and I began to believe that Tanya’s aspirations could never happen. I started to bunk off school, began to go off the rails. But Tanya held me in check; I would have done anything for her. If she’d let me.’

Foreboding touched Ruby, drizzled her skin with dread. ‘What happened?’

‘She was bullied. I didn’t know—she didn’t tell me, and we were at different schools by then. Tanya was doing A levels, and that meant a bunch of kids had it in for her. It started out as small-time stuff, teasing with a nasty edge, and then it became sabotage of homework, and then it became worse and worse. They stalked her, threatened her with rape, and eventually she couldn’t take it any more. She killed herself.’

The words buzzed in the air like dark, malignant insects, and for a moment Ruby couldn’t take in the enormity of his words. Once they hit her she raised her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry of protest. ‘Ethan...’ The anguish on his face was enough to make her weep.

‘I found her. She’d overdosed—she’d found a stash of Mum’s sleeping pills and swallowed the lot.’ His voice jerked the words out, raspy and abuzz with a raw, jagged pain. ‘At first I thought she was asleep, and then...’

Ruby swallowed the lump of horror that clogged her throat, pressed her lips together to stop herself from crying out. The image was so clear in her brain—she could only imagine how etched it was on his. A younger Ethan—lanky, tall, unsuspecting—calling his sister, entering the room... And then the awful paralysed second when he would have realised the grim truth and his life had changed for ever.

‘Ethan...’ Her voice was a whisper as compassion robbed her breath. ‘I am so very sorry. I cannot imagine what you and your mother went through.’

The words were inadequate against such calamity, and she could only hope that the tragedy had brought mother and son closer.

‘Mum was devastated. It was a dark time.’

For a long moment he stared into the flames and then he shifted slightly. Scored his palm down his face as if in an attempt to erase the memories.

‘Do you think we could change topic? I’m kind of talked out.’

‘Of course we can.’

Ruby tried to pull her thoughts together, her heart aching for what he had been through. For what he had told her and for the troubled relationship that he had with his mother. But now she wanted to lighten the mood, hoping that their conversation had been cathartic.

‘How about a picnic and some board games?’

Surprise touched his face, and then his lips tipped into a small smile. ‘That sounds perfect.’ As she rose he followed suit and placed a hand on his arm. ‘Thanks for listening.’

He cupped her jaw in his palms and dropped the lightest and sweetest of kisses on her lips. And her heart ached all the more.

* * *

As dawn slipped through the shutter’s slats Ethan slipped quietly from the bed, pulled on his jeans and gazed down at Ruby, her cheek pillowed on her hand, her dark hair in sheer contrast to the white of the pillowcase and the cream of her skin. Her beauty touched him on a strata that he didn’t want to identify and, turning away, he reached down for his shirt, thrust his arms into the sleeves and headed for the ladder.

Panic strummed inside him, made him edgy. Somehow Ruby had got right under his skin, and the idea caused angst to tighten his gut as he prowled the lounge and kitchen.

Memories of the past evening itched and prickled—they’d drunk cocoa in front of the lambent flames of the fire, talked of anything and nothing, laughed and philosophised. Then they’d gone to bed and... And there weren’t words, truth be told, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to find any.

The panic grew—as if his actions had opened the floodgates. Letting her in had been a mistake, and nothing good could come of it. He wasn’t capable of closeness.

‘Ethan?’

He swivelled round, saw her at the top of the ladder. How long had she been there, watching him pace?

With an effort he forced his lips up into a relaxed smile. ‘Morning!’ he said, and his heart thumped against his ribcage as he took in her tousled hair, the penguin pyjamas.

Silence stretched into a net of awkwardness as she climbed down the ladder, paused at the bottom to survey him. Impulse urged him to walk over and carry her right back upstairs, and he slammed his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. No more impulses—because his emotions were already ricocheting off the Richter scale.

‘Coffee?’ he offered.

‘Yes, please.’

Trying to keep his body rhythm natural, he headed to the kitchen. The endeavour was a fail and he passed her, breath held, unsure what to do, ultra-careful not to touch her. Yesterday he’d have teased her mercilessly about the penguins, dropped a kiss on her lips, taken her hand... Now he sidled past.

Ruby stood stock-still, one finger tugging a strand of hair. ‘I’ll... I’ll go change,’ she said, the words stilted, and relief rippled with regret touched his chest.

Because he knew she’d gone upstairs to armour herself in clothes. For this bubble of time she had been herself—no façade needed. Same for him. But now... Now it was time to go back to normal. Because being himself was too raw, too hard, too emotional. And emotion was not the way he wanted to go—he wanted the status quo of his un-rocked boat.

So he filled the kettle and assembled the ingredients for breakfast. The bread they had bought yesterday, the succulent strawberry jam, the pastries Ruby loved so much.

The sound of her shoes tapping on the wooden floor forced him to look up.

‘Looks great,’ she said, the words too bright, underscored with brittleness.

Her glorious hair was tamed into a sleek ponytail, not even a tendril loose. The knowledge sucker-punched him—never again would he run his fingers through those smooth silky curls, never again would he touch her soft skin, hear the small responsive gasp she made...

Enough.

A sudden urge to sweep the breakfast off the table, to get rid of the false image of intimacy, nearly overwhelmed him. The intimacy was over, and the sooner they exited this cloying atmosphere the better.

Too many emotions brewed inside him now, but at all costs he had to remember this was not Ruby’s fault. If he had miscalculated it would not rebound on her. Instead he would haul back on all this feeling and return to professional normality. Though right now, in the line of her direct gaze, work seemed almost surreal. Which was nuts. Work was his life.

Jeez, Ethan.

Now he’d gone all drama king. Maybe he’d actually shed some brain cells these past days. In which case it was time to use the ones he had left. Fast.

No point in rueing the fact that he’d agreed to this fling in the first place. His eyes had been open to the fact that it would be different from his usual liaisons—he simply hadn’t realised how that difference would play out. But there was no time for regrets. None at all. Regret was an indulgence—the important thing now was momentum.

With determination he lifted a croissant, went through the motions of spreading butter and jam. Then he glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll need to hit the road soon. I thought we could do a drive-round and get a visual of any areas or properties suitable for Caversham. I’ll do a computer trawl whilst you pack up. Then maybe you can take over whilst I pack.’

‘No problem.’

The cool near formality of her tone smote him even as he forced himself to pick up his coffee cup.

A gulp of coffee and she pushed her plate away. ‘I’m on it.’